


Green Carnation

by Miss_Vile



Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Chief of Staff Edward Nygma, Fluff, Gay Rights, Idiots in Love, Isabella isn't awful in this story, Love Confessions, M/M, Mayor Oswald Cobblepot, Realization, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 20:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21203423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: “You've been meaning to tell me something all week but you've been avoiding it. You haven't mentioned it since I didn't come home for dinner-”“-It doesn't matter now, Ed.” Oswald's expression alarmed him. It's similar to how he looked when he was mourning the loss of his mother. Was there something he'd forgotten? An anniversary he'd missed? He didn't know when Gertrude's birthday was. Perhaps that was it?“What can I do to make this better?” Edward asked. He knew he had done something to make Oswald upset but, for the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. The disappointment clawed his insides.Oswald opened his mouth to speak but the words never fell out. Instead, he lightly shook his head and sighed, “I don't want you to bring this conversation up again. I'm too tired.”“As you wish, Mayor Cobblepot.” he smiled. He didn't like Oswald's request but he would accept it as punishment for all of the hurt he'd caused his friend.





	Green Carnation

Edward was a cyclone of emotion. He caught wind of the terrifying events from the evening prior and _not_ in a manner that was ideal. Reporters had gathered outside the manor that morning demanding information regarding the Mayor's well-being after his life had been threatened by Jervis Tetch at the Founder's Dinner. Edward had been completely caught off guard but managed to scare them away with a promise that he would have them all cuffed if they didn't leave immediately.

When Oswald had asked what all of the commotion was, Edward tore into him with a ferocity he was surprised he had in him.

“Why didn't you tell me?!” he roared

“Ugh! What does it matter?”

“I can't be blind-sided with stuff like this!” Edward unfolds the paper, “It's front-page news!”

“See. You would have found out about it eventually.” Oswald was keen to dismiss the confrontation entirely

“That is beside the point! You should have told me when you came home last night.” Edward slams the paper down on the desk

“My apologies, but you were a little _busy_ last night. If you recall.” Oswald's nostrils flared

“I could have sent Isabella home.” Edward adjusted his glasses

Oswald scoffed and then gulped down some unidentified spicy alcohol from his hip flask. Oswald pulled it away from his lips to gasp for air before returning for another drink.

Edward pries the flask from his hands. Oswald huffs and throws himself backward onto the sofa. His fluffy purple bathrobe practically swallowing him. Lately, he had opted to wear that one instead of the one with gold brocade. Something about it seemed to make Oswald sad. He crossed his arms and pouted at the loss of his desired poison that morning.

“Stop acting like a petulant child!” Edward yelled

Oswald rolls his eyes, “I think I've _more_ than earned my tantrum, Ed! I almost died. Or _worse_. The alternative would have been to turn into some mindless_ monster_. I would have torn all of those people apart at that dinner and then come home and done the same to _you_ and that awful woman!” Oswald shivered at the image that conjured in his mind.

“Isabella is not awful!”

Oswald rolls his eyes again, “Yes. _That_ is the detail you latch onto. Let's just ignore the fact that your one and _only_ friend would have been _lost_ to you forever!” Oswald shakes his head, “But, what do you care?” Oswald grabbed a bottle of wine that was hidden underneath the sofa. But, before he could pull the cork away, Edward snatched it from his grasp and slammed it on the table.

“I care, Oswald. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you... and I'm sorry I didn't realize how upset you were when you arrived at the manor.” Edward looked into his eyes. There was a cold fury in them, “But I can't read your mind. You have to talk to me.”

Oswald scoffed and wrenched the flask from Edward's hands. When Ed opened his mouth to protest, Oswald shot him a glaring look. Edward sighed.

“Did I do something to lose your trust?” Edward clasped his hands behind his back. His body language was all business despite the hammering in his chest and head, “I know you're still upset about Butch-”

“-No, Ed. I'm not worried about that! You've done nothing to lose my trust.” Oswald waved his hand. Irritated that Edward hadn't believed him the _first_ time he told him.

“Even though I stood you up at dinner?” Edward risked asking

“Well... there is _that._” Oswald scrunched his nose at the memory, “But, no. You still have my trust. Why would you even question that?”

“You're hiding something.” Ed said

“W-what do you mean?” Oswald stammered

“You've been meaning to tell me something all week but you've been avoiding it. You haven't mentioned it since I didn't come home for dinner-”

“-It doesn't matter now, Ed.” Oswald's expression alarmed him. It's similar to how he looked when he was mourning the loss of his mother. Was there something he'd forgotten? An anniversary he'd missed? He didn't know when Gertrude's birthday was. Perhaps that was it? Had Oswald wanted to celebrate in tribute to her but the date had already come and gone? What else _was_ there?

“What can I do to make this better?” Edward asked. He knew he had done_ something_ to make Oswald upset but, for the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. The disappointment clawed his insides.

Oswald opened his mouth to speak but the words never fell out. Instead, he lightly shook his head and sighed, “I don't want you to bring this conversation up again. I'm too tired.”

“As you wish, Mayor Cobblepot.” he smiled. He didn't like Oswald's request but he would accept it as punishment for all of the hurt he'd caused his friend.

* * *

Another week passed. Edward spent more and more time at Isabella's apartment than at the manor. Oswald only ever saw him when he came to City Hall or when he accompanied him at events and meetings with 'constituents'.

Edward noticed that Oswald was distancing himself. _Especially_ if Isabella was nearby. Edward had offered to take the three of them to dinner, but Oswald had declined. He told Edward that he was feeling sick and wouldn't be able to make it. So, Edward canceled those plans and showed up to help Oswald recover from being sick. But, that had proven to _also_ be the wrong decision because Oswald had just sent him away in a fit of anger.

Edward was seated in his usual spot on the couch in Isabella's living room. It smelled fragrantly of oranges and vanilla. Homey. The total opposite of the old wood and caked in dust of the manor. Ed shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was a dull ache spreading across his body that he couldn't shake.

“What's the matter, darling?” Isabella placed their cups of coffee onto the table in front of them. Isabella preferred it over tea. Ed didn't really mind. The caffeine kept him alert and the tea always managed to taste strange when he shared it with Isabella.

“Oh... nothing.” Edward gave her a fake smile, scalding himself on the bitter liquid. He had been looking at the picture on the front page of the paper. It was from the opening of the antiquities museum that Oswald and Edward had attended. Edward couldn't help but feel like Oswald looked... _off._ He wasn't his usual self in the photograph but he still couldn't figure out what.

“Do you have any business with the Mayor today?” she asked

“No... he's sick. So I've postponed our meetings.” he replied

“I see...”

Isabella looks at the photograph. And Ed sees it. That change in her expression that tells him she's seen it too. She doesn't know Oswald like he does but even she knows that something is wrong.

“_The most terrible thing about it is not that it breaks one’s heart...hearts are made to be broken...but that it turns one’s heart to stone.”_ She all but whispers

“De Profundis.” Ed nodded his head, “A love letter sent from Oscar Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas.”

The ticking of the clock grows silent and there is blood rushing in his ears. Why would she be quoting that? He looks over to Isabella who turns the paper over so that the photograph is no longer visible. She fiddles with the hem of her pencil skirt and brushes a tear from her face.

“What's wrong?” Edward is standing now

“It's nothing. Don't worry about it.” She smiles

“...Why does everyone keep doing that?” he growls at the air

“Doing what?” she feigns ignorance

“Treating me like an idiot!” he scowled, “What are you and Oswald hiding from me?”

“What makes you think we're hiding something from you?” Isabella's expression betrays her. She's not some hardened criminal or assassin with experience in hiding her emotions. Ed can't say that it isn't something he likes about her. She's like an oasis among the desert of Gotham. But, he would be a liar if he said he felt even a little bit satiated drinking from the waters...

Edward rubs his hands along the delicate taper of her shoulders. He exhales slowly, “You know I won't hurt you...” he tries to reassure her, in case her standoffish demeanor is due to fear. He knows how dangerous and volatile he is. But he wants her to know she's safe.

“I know you won't.” She smiles, confidently.

“So tell me. What are you hiding?” he asks

“Why don't you ask him?” She replies

_Ah... so their secrets _are_ connected. _It had been a hunch that she just proved for him, “He asked that we not continue the conversation.”

“Then perhaps we should respect his wishes?” She advised, “Allow him to deal with his heartbreak in his own way.”

“...What did you just say?” Ed's heart was pounding

“Oh...” she tried to stare at every corner of her vision that wasn't already filled with him, “It doesn't really matter.” she flutters her eyes and gives a fake smile

_It doesn't matter now, Ed..._

“Isabella... please.” his voice quivered, “What did you mean? Why is he heartbroken?”

Isabella said nothing. Instead, she just stared. Her eyes melting him like ice in the sun. She knew she didn't have to repeat herself.

“...Is Oswald in love with me?” the words sound odd on his tongue. But it's not an unwelcomed sensation.

“Edward.” She smiled sadly, “Anyone with eyes can see that he does.”

Edward hitched a breath. His hand to his chest as he stumbled backwards. He wasn't sure if he wanted to pass out or throw up. How had he been so blind? Had it been denial? A refusal? Did he subconsciously rebuke the idea?

Isabella walked towards him, her delicate hands on either side of his face, “And you love him too. Don't you?”

_I would do anything for you..._

Edward feels something warm and wet on his face. It's not until Isabella brushes his tears aside that he realizes he's crying.

“Of course you do.” She shakes her head. Tears welling up in her eyes but the smile never leaves her face.

“I-”

“_Shh...”_ She smiles even wider, “You have to make a choice now.”

Ed swallows and listens intently.

“You can either stay here with me and support him as best you can as his friend...” she blinks away tears, “Or you can walk out that door.”

Ed hitches a breath and grabs her by the shoulders like he's trying to keep himself from falling.

“I already know which choice you're going to make, Edward.” her hands fall to her sides, “I've known from the very moment I realized he loved you as I did.”

“Isabella... I'm so sorry.” It's all he can think of to say.

“Don't be.” She smiles warmly at him, “This is the most beautiful love story I could have ever asked for.” she kissed him on the cheek, “Thank you so much for letting me be a part of it.”

* * *

Edward isn't surprised to find the manor empty. When Oswald is flustered, he often sends Olga and the other employees home. The only ones present on the Van Dahl grounds are Victor Zsasz and his assassins. They nod in Ed's direction and don't impede his march up the driveway.

He finds Oswald asleep on the sofa. The fire just barely alive and a chill enveloping the room. Ed sighs and then busies himself with reinvigorating the fire.

“Ed?” Oswald blinks awake

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Edward smirks, “Are you actually sick or are you just hungover?”

Oswald grumbles and rubs at his temples, “Either way I feel terrible.”

“Well, no worries. I'm here to take care of you.”

“I already told you I don't need your help-”

“-Then, perhaps you can help me?” Edward interrupted

Oswald shifted under his stare, “Oh... Yes. Of course, Ed. Anything you need.” He sat up on the sofa and made room for Edward. His hand reflexively clasping over the top of Ed's. He grimaces at how cold they are and attempts to warm them.

“I broke up with Isabella.” Ed says

Oswald's eyes widen, “I...but I thought you loved her?”

“I thought I did.” Edward inhaled, “I do care about her but... I'm not in love with her like I thought I was.”

“I see.” Oswald exhaled, relieved. Something on the side table caught his eye. It was a long-stemmed carnation. Pale with a slightly green hue. It was a simple flower. Nothing extravagant like a bouquet, “What's that?”

“Oh? This?” Edward smiled, “It's for you.” he handed Oswald the flower.

“You'll forgive me if I'm not well-versed in the language of flowers.” he smiled and smelled the sweet petals, “What is this for?”

“The green carnation became a popular symbol among gay men in Victorian England. They often wore it on their lapels to signify their affiliation.” he smiled, “These are hard to come by this time of year. Luckily, I found a florist in the Diamond District who had some.”

Oswald was stunned momentarily. He wasn't sure what to say or to do so he just sat there and allowed himself to be stared at with equal intensity.

“Oscar Wilde used to wear one...” Oswald recalled

“He did.” Edward couldn't help but chuckle. He'd have to think of a way to thank Isabella later...

“Edward... I'm not very good at this sort of thing.” Oswald placed feather-light touches on the flower.

“I'm not either.” he held Oswald's hand in his own, “But I'm sure we can figure it out. If that's something you want.”

“I do want that.” He replied instantly. Brooking no misunderstanding.

“Good.” he chuckled, “We should make the most out of our day off. Or, are you still too sick to enjoy my company?” Edward teased

“I think I can stand having you around.” Oswald smirked, placing a hand on Edward's cheek. His touch just as soft as what he'd been using to handle the flower. Edward leaned into the touch and turned to kiss the palm of Oswald's hand.

The storm had quieted in their minds and their future together, while still full of uncertainty, was bound to be worth it so long as they remained together. Always.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on other projects and prepping for NaNoWriMo but this wormed its way into my brain and I had to write it. Hope you enjoyed some short and sweet fluff!


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